The life they knew
by HaloNoir
Summary: Epilogue for Changes and Guilt in Time, best read afterwards but doesn't have to be it's v. short!. Will is filled with curiosity about what happened to Elizabeth and James Norrington when he let them go.


Epilogue

Will looked out from the crow's nest, searching the never-ending horizon. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, but simply reflecting on his life. Needless to say, things had not turned out as he had hoped they would. He had lost his "wife", if she could be called that – since they had never officially registered their marriage, his ability to walk on land and his own mortality. Although Will kept no real track of her, he knew it had been many years since he had returned Elizabeth to James Norrington. And for the first time in many years, he was consumed by the desire to find out what they had made of their lives, if Norrington had lived up to his vow. Climbing out of the crow's nest, he nimbly scaled down the rigging, summoning someone else to keep watch. He entered his quarters and from underneath his large desk he pulled a large, porcelain bowl that had been left by the captain before. Despite the turbulent nature of the sea, the dark water that lay in the dish never spilt. He looked into the dish, searching for the bottom of the water, but it seemed bottomless. Never taking his eyes from the glasslike surface, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small trinket on a leather thong – the piece of eight Elizabeth had been given by Sao Feng. He dropped it in with a splash, and sat transfixed as he watched thirteen events in his love's life unfold in the obsidian water.

He saw Elizabeth stepping off the ramp from a large boat, looking around self consciously. She looks lovely, he thinks, dressed in a royal blue gown with light blue lace and a fan. She stands there alone, a moment or two, before a tall and handsome man follows her down, holding several large bags in his hands – she is laughing at him, carrying all of her things. Norrington smiles bashfully, trying to shift the cases into one hand so that he may take her arm. He finally relents and lets her carry one case – only the hatbox though. They walk off of the wharf and disappear from view, Elizabeth clutching onto his arm, trying not to let her nervousness show.

She is sitting in a plush chair, positioned in a large garden, overlooking the sea. She seems to be doing a piece of needlework, or at least trying to – stabbing the cloth viciously with the needle, frustrated that she isn't as domestic as she would like. She looks up to the ocean and sees it glittering. Will would have liked to think that she was thinking of him, and maybe she is, but it seems plain in her face that the green waters remind her of her true love's eyes. As if on cue, he appears behind her, leaning above her to plant a kiss on the top of her head, she smiles, and she is content.

He sees James Norrington standing on the battlements, clad in all his navy finery. He mutters nervously to himself, hunching over the walls slightly. He turns as he hears her light footsteps, straightening his back. He reaches a hand for her and she joins him there. Norrington begins to speak but then seems to stop himself, stepping down from the edge, before getting down on one knee. Elizabeth can't stop smiling, even if it isn't proper, and she drops down to his level, embracing him and kissing her as if he is her lifeline. Although there is no sound, Will can tell she is saying "yes" over, and over again. The kisses she gives him and the hold she has him in would make any man blush – fortunately there seem to be no spectators nearby.

Elizabeth is all in white. Will realizes with a jolt that this is her wedding day. Her dark eyes seem to gaze at him a moment before they turn to her husband besides her. It is a small ceremony, Will notes; he supposes they both live in scandal, particularly now that he and the Governor are no longer there. The best man, Lieutenant Groves, hands Norrington his wedding ring for Elizabeth, and in his state of anxiety and excitement he drops it on the floor. Elizabeth looks on in fondness as he and Groves scrabble after it. Just before Norrington finally places the ring on her finger, he looks up at her, eyes filled with insecurity, and Will swears he hears the recognizable voice, "Are you sure?" She simple places a hand on the side of his face and nods.

He sees them at the docks again. She is holding onto him tightly, crying as he comforts her, rocking her backwards and forth. Will knows he is leaving, not because he wants to, but because Norrington's duty to the Navy is so strong. He kisses her fiercely, as if trying to devour her tears, not caring what his men think. With no last words he gets onto a small rowboat and looks at her sadly as his men take him to the ship. Elizabeth has collected herself and simply waves goodbye to him – she will not shame him in public, she is stronger than that. Will knows she will weep in the comfort of her home.

Elizabeth seems thin again, skin drawn too tightly over her bones. She sits in the same seat that he saw her in before, in the garden. It is night now, and one of her maids comes and tucks a blanket around her, caringly. Elizabeth's eyes seem dull in the dark, as she sits, waiting for her love to return. Will feels guilt as he thinks how he nearly made her wait for him for ten years.

There is a ship pulling into the harbour, its sails tattered in the wind. The wife of the Admiral runs to the ship pulling alongside the shipyard docks as they roll out the boarding plank. Lieutenant Groves rushes out to meet her, speaking lowly – Will wishes, desperately, that he could know what they were saying. Behind them, two officers, caked with salt and blood bear a stretcher towards them. On it is her husband, neck bound tight with white cloth stained red, eyes closed and skin whiter than the linen he lies on. Elizabeth rushes to him, checking he is still alive, before ordering the men to take him home – the spirit alive again in her eyes.

James Norrington lies in their marriage bed, smiling wanly at his fussing wife. It seems much time has passed; he looks well again, if thinner than he used to be. He catches her hand as she strides past, and pulls her down to him. Grinning at him, the spark returning to him, she kisses him lightly, murmuring something in his ear, before grasping a wet cloth from a bowl, and wiping his brow and neck – despite his gestures that say "I'm alright, really!"

It is night and in their bedroom again. Will shifts uncomfortably, wishing he could look away, afraid of what he'll see. But they are not doing anything he cannot witness. James has his arms wrapped around his wife's sleeping form; nose buried in her dark hair, spreading like blood across the pillows. There is something wrong. She seems peaceful, but her husband is sweating, swallowing uncomfortably whilst looking at his wife as she sleeps, afraid of waking her up – his wound has not healed.

The next scene seems unimportant at first glance, a portrait, almost, of a loving wife and husband gazing out to sea from their bedroom windows. But there is something else, the spectator notes, his eyes following the possessive path that the Admiral's arms weave across her body – jealousy flares. The older man's hands are splayed across her stomach. She does not, just, look healthy again. She is pregnant.

Norrington paces up and down before two heavy cedar doors. Will notices for the first time, since his attention has always been drawn to Elizabeth, that time has begun to show itself in James Norrington. His hair, free from the wig, is still dark, but there is grey around his temples and sideburns. His face seems lined, and Will hopes for his sake that they laughter lines. He also sees, as he turns his head towards the door that he has cravat tied high up his neck, to hide his scars. The doors open, and he rushes in. Elizabeth has two babes in her arms; her husband falls to his knees, looking adoringly at his goddess and their children.

They are in the garden again, but many years have passed. Elizabeth too shows the signs of age, her hair a little less glorious, and her skin, though still soft, Will imagines, is lined with care and worry. They sit on a large couch together as they watch their two daughters together. Will is surprised by their appearance. They remind him deeply of Elizabeth just before they began their adventures, but there is much of their father in them, in their eyes and in the way they hold themselves. They must be in their mid-teens, he thinks. How old are they now? Are they married off yet?

Elizabeth is sick. Will knows, almost before he sees her. She is in her bed, her faithful husband at her side. She seems gaunt, but what lets him know that she is not going to win this battle, is the look on Norrington's face. His face seems jovial, telling her some joke or anecdote, while she holds the white cloth to her mouth. But his eyes, his eyes seem filled with despair and desperate hope. Elizabeth draws the cloth away and the rose blooming on it does not surprise either of them. This scene lasts the longest. William feels like a voyeur as he watches, for what seems like hours, a man who was once his idol, cradle the failing body of the woman he loves in her last hours. At last they stopped talking and together they rested in the bed. The scene faded with James watching his wife in her eternal sleep – his eyes no longer sparkling like the sea. Will felt cruel, but he was pleased, in some twisted way, that she had died first – She wasn't strong enough to lose Norrington twice.

As he began to pull away from the dark water, he was surprised to see one last scene unravel before him. There were figures, clad in all in black, clashing with the Caribbean sun. They moved away, wraithlike, and he saw two stones standing proud from the green:

_Elizabeth Norrington_

_Devoted mother and loving wife._

_Queen of the Sea._

_Died of consumption._

_Born on the 21__st__ of October 1758_

_Died on the 31__st__ of May 1799_

_Admiral James Norrington_

_Loving father and devoted husband._

_Servant of the Sea and Navy to the end._

_Died in grief._

_Born on the 19__th__ July 1745_

_Died on the 31__st__ of May 1800_

Will finally pulled loose from the sights and shook his head. He nudged the dish back underneath the desk with his foot. He had had no idea that so many years had passed. He felt a heaviness in his, metaphorical, heart, and it was not just grief for his once wife but for the man who had loved her so completely that he had not been able to carry on without her. A voice called out behind him and he turned to see Ana Maria standing in the doorway of his quarters. She asked, concernedly, if he was alright, and he patiently explained, as he led her out to the deck, that he wasn't sure he was, but he would explain. The love that his friends had shared deserved to be remembered by all he could tell. Idly, he wondered, as he began the story, if he should seek out Elizabeth's daughters, but decided not to. He had already impacted their world enough as it was.

Will looked at Ana, who watched him intently as he unfolded the story. He didn't love her, the way James had loved Elizabeth, but he was content. She made him happy.


End file.
